


False Attack

by TeaJay (LoreWren)



Category: Thrill Me: The Leopold & Loeb Story - Dolginoff
Genre: Bloodplay, Cane Porn, Disabled Character, Disabled!Richard Loeb, M/M, PWP, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Role Reversal, Sword Cane, Walking Canes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoreWren/pseuds/TeaJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attack that is intended to miss or fall short, so as to produce a reaction from the opponent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was: Disabled!Richard, "Richard, why do you have a swordcane?"

"Richard, why do you have a sword cane?"

"For walking," Richard said, running a cloth along the gleaming edge with his standard overdramatic air. The sheathe half of the cane lay next to him on his bed.

"...Richard, why do you have a sword cane?"

Richard raised an eyebrow.

"That's not actually an answer."

"Isn't it?"

"No," Nathan said, "it really isn't."

Richard flipped the sword over his hand and slid it against Nathan's neck.

"Richard," Nathan said, gone entirely still.

"Yeah, Babe?"

Nathan hadn't actually worked out what to say. "It is ridiculous to pick up a weapon you don't intend to use," he said, vaguely feeling as if he were quoting someone.

"I'm using it." Richard pressed the blade in slightly more. Nathan felt a small line of blood trickle down his neck and shivered. "It's serving quite well."

"Richard, this isn't--" Nathan suppressed the urge to swallow, half from pride and half from not knowing what a bobbing Adam's apple would do right now. "Funny."

"No, but it is fun." Richard nudged Nathan with the sword. "Sit."

"Fuck you," Nathan said, but it came out more breathless than he'd intended, and he sat.

"No, not tonight," Richard said, and Nathan shut his eyes, definitively not whining. The blade came off his neck, and he relaxed for a moment before Richard's hand was on his throat, thumb worrying at the mark. There was blood under Richard's hand, and even as he tightened the grip it felt slick, not grounding the way it should have. Nathan smoothed his fingers down his pants, as if fixing creases. Richard said, almost absently, "You touch yourself, I stop."

Nathan's fingers curled on his thighs. He opened his eyes, ready to argue, then hesitated. Richard very rarely gave Nathan his full attention, and it was...heady. Disconcerting. Both. When Nathan got his voice back, he opened his mouth to say, "Then touch me yourself," but only got about halfway through "touch" before Richard had leaned him into the wall, pinning Nathan there by his throat. Nathan _knew_  Richard used a cane, but the sudden shows of strength always threw him off.

Richard dug a fingernail into the wound then released it, drawing the nail lightly through the blood that was going to stain Nathan's shirt, and Nathan tried to bring himself to care instead of just squirming, pushing his own fingernails into his palms, but it was difficult when Richard was right there, holding him down with his hand and his focus, when Nathan was too hard to think straight even if his brain had been getting all the oxygen it should have, even if there hadn't been stars dancing along the edges of his vision.

Richard let go, and Nathan gasped and coughed loudly enough that it took him a second to realize Richard was breathing hard, too, eyes dark and bright.

"Fuck, you," Nathan rasped, tugging Richard's suspenders down, pulling Richard's shirt off more roughly than he needed to--Richard  _had_  ruined his--shoving him onto his back, stripping Richard's pants when he lifted his hips. Nathan bit Richard's collarbone, his shoulder, his hip bone, and each time Richard let out a helpless, needy sound. Nathan grabbed for the bottle on the nightstand, got some oil on his hand, and worked a finger inside Richard, whose breathing lost its rhythm. When Richard was trembling and slick enough, Nathan got his own clothes off. Richard whined at the loss of contact, giving Nathan a look that was the closest he ever came to asking.

When Nathan slid his oiled cock into Richard, Richard bucked and twisted, biting his lip hard enough to bleed to keep from saying whatever he wanted to say. Nathan picked a steady rhythm, and Richard’s breathing matched it for a few strokes before he was gasping again, starting to swear under his breath.

“Babe--” Richard choked on the sound and Nathan fucked him through it until he was a shivering mess.

“Too much?” Nathan breathed, right on the edge but not there yet.

“Fuck, fuck, Babe, please.”

Nathan’s hips jerked out of rhythm when Richard said, ‘please,’ and in another second he was coming. Richard made one more of those helpless noises and went slack, the room quiet but for their breathing.

Nathan slid to Richard’s side, twining his arms around Richard. “Can I stay?”

“Yeah,” Richard muttered, dropping his head onto Nathan’s shoulder, “sure.”


End file.
